


Two Traitors and a Pilot

by MissAdventurous



Series: Rebel Scum [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Armitage Hux Hates Kylo Ren, Armitage Hux Lives, Eventual Relationships, Force-Sensitive Finn (Star Wars), Kylo Ren Dies, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Pre-OT3, Pre-Relationship, Resistance Member Armitage Hux, Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker Fix-It, Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-25 06:21:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22011442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissAdventurous/pseuds/MissAdventurous
Summary: Finn and Poe flirted with death far too often, but this time came much closer than usual. Luckily they had a guardian angel in the form of General Armitage Hux. Surviving turned out to be the easy part, navigating their complicated interpersonal dynamics wasmuchmore difficult.
Relationships: Finn/Armitage Hux, Poe Dameron/Armitage Hux, Poe Dameron/Finn, Poe Dameron/Finn/Armitage Hux
Series: Rebel Scum [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1585063
Comments: 15
Kudos: 178





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just pretend Chewie wasn't captured with Poe and Finn on the star destroyer-- I forgot he was there ^_^' even though objectively I know they were their to rescue him. Regardless, I really don't think his inclusion would've added much to this fic so I didn't bother putting him back in (forgive me, Chewie fans).
> 
> I've been in this fandom since TFA, been a pretty hardcore Klyux shipper that whole time, always said I would never ever write a Star wars fanfic....  
>  _Then_ I watched ROS and I couldn't get this idea out of my head so here we are. 
> 
> I've only watched it once, so please forgive any inaccuracies. 
> 
> (Also, the gingerstormpilot no one asked for is a pre-relationship, you can read it as platonic if you'd rather. On the off chance you're only here to watch me attempt that OT3, I'm working on a second part in the series that will be more explicit :))

_“I’m the spy,” Announced so matter-of-fact, borrowed blaster lowering to dangle by his side._

_A broad grin broke out across Poe’s face, hand clapping against Finn’s arm, “I knew it!”_

_Finn’s heart-- which had been well on its way to crawling up his throat-- settled for pounding in his chest. His palms itched, sweaty and numb. He couldn’t shake the look of dumbfounded shock on his face._

* * *

“If we leave him,” Poe gathered in close, hand moving to grab Finn’s shoulder, drawing the other man’s attention toward him, “He’s gonna be killed.” His hands were unintentionally rough before he realized and his grip slackened. 

Finn’s voice lowered into a hush, face twisting away in a poor effort to shield his words from the prone General on the floor: “So?” He gestured haphazardly toward the man in question anyway. “He’s _General Starkiller_! Responsible for the deaths of millions of innocent civilians. We aren’t _seriously_ considering--” Even on the ground, blaster wound seared through the meat of his thigh, he was still _evil_. 

But then Poe gave him a look, brows raised up with expectation. Finn huffed out a sigh, shaking his head, voice raising in a poor facsimile of a pep talk: “Okay, fine, we’re doing this.” 

Poe’s hand clapped against his arm, “Alright, buddy!” And their two sets of eyes turned toward Hux. 

“Resolved your lover’s quarrel then?” Hux’s words a derisive sneer, mouth twisted up into an ugly, condescending expression. Finn gave Poe one last desperate look and only got a broad grin in response. Okay, they were definitely doing this. 

“You should come with us,” Poe said taking a step closer to Hux, demeanor totally confident. Hux gave them an incredulous expression, twisting his face up again into something ugly and mean. 

Finn stole a glance down the hallway, worried they’d be overtaken at any moment, “Now,” he reached down, hand closing on Hux’s sleeve to pull him up. “Right now.” Hux was barely on his feet, careful to keep the weight off his wounded leg before he was lunging forward. 

Finn lurched backward. Stumbling away, releasing his grip on Hux. Hux fell to the ground, landing heavily on his knees. Finn glanced down at his shirt; his voice hitched high into a sharp whisper: “Did you just try to stab me?!” Sure enough, there was a nice even slice through the fabric. Poe came to Finn’s side instantly, checking him over, hands brushing along his torso. 

“What else was I to do?” Hux demanded, wincing as he closed a hand over the wound on his thigh-- no doubt trying to put pressure on it to stop the sluggish bleeding. But sure enough, in his other hand he held a small blade. “ _If_ I was trying to kill you, you’d be dead. Seeing as you’re not, I was hoping you’d find I wasn’t worth the effort. ” 

Poe gave a gentle squeeze to Finn’s arm before he turned away. “Let’s not do that again, okay?” Poe said, exasperation lacing through his voice. He knelt down next to Hux, extending out a hand, “Come with us.” 

Hux’s lip curled up, baring his teeth: “Did you not hear me? Absolutely not--” Before the words were even out of Hux’s mouth a blaster bolt seared dangerously close to his leg. He scrambled backward-- as fast as he could with his injury. Finn drew his blaster, putting a neat little hole through the torso of the trooper. They could all hear the footsteps echoing down the halls of the star destroyer. More troopers were coming. Now or never then. Hux turned a started look down the hall, wide-eyed when he said: “Alright, fine.” 

Hux grunted in pain when Poe hauled him back up to his feet. Finn came up on Hux’s other side, resigning himself to having to be a glorified crutch for the destroyer of the hosnian system. Hux turned a glance toward Finn, a nasty smile pulling on the edges of his mouth: “Impeccable aim, who trained you?” 

“Are you serious?” Finn’s voice pitched high. He leaned over toward Poe, words a hiss: “Is he serious?” 

“Yeah,” Poe consoled, “I think he is.”

The foot race toward the Falcon was stilted and awkward-- all of them beaten down and exhausted. Finn tried to catch Poe’s eye-- wondering if the blaster wound that had clipped his arm earlier was doing alright. He ended up catching Hux’s eye instead, who just gave him another particularly nasty sneer. 

Finn heaved out a breath, “Why’d we have to shoot him, Poe?” The General’s arm was a heavy weight across his shoulders and Finn really hoped he wasn’t hiding another knife up that particular sleeve. 

Poe reached across Hux’s back, patting Finn’s arm, “I dunno, buddy, but it’s already done,” Poe offered up which did absolutely nothing to make Finn feel better.

* * *

“The ship of Ren’s childhood,” Hux mused aloud, purposefully raising his voice, glancing around at the hulking relic. His upper lip curled up at the hideous floors, already longing for the polished durasteel of his flagship. “Ah, _now_ I understand why he was so desperate to destroy--” Hux’s voice cut off into a high-pitched keen when Finn purposefully dug the heel of his hand into the damaged skin of his leg. 

“Sorry,” Finn grit out, “Only ever had to do wookie first aid,” his narrowed eyes giving away how disingenuous this apology really was. He held up a pair of shears-- hideous industrial things. Hux stared up at the ceiling, hopelessly wishing this would all be some sort of fever dream for he couldn’t fathom how he ended up here on a derelict ships with a bunch of naive fools. 

Finn sliced open the fabric of his jodhpurs-- _such a waste_ \-- doing the poorest job applying bacta Hux had ever seen. Hux couldn’t remember if basic medical aid was a requirement for the storm troopers, but he made a mental note to have it added. 

Hux bared his teeth, wrestling the patch out of Finn’s hands, “I’ll do it myself.” He loathed the feeling of the thick, gelatinous slime. _Better than a tank_ , he consoled himself, unable to avoid thinking of his father. 

“You two okay back there?” Poe called from up in the cockpit. His particular concern enough to rankle Hux’s nerves. 

“Great! Just great,” Finn called out, trying to force his voice into something upbeat before grimacing. In response, Hux twisted his face into the most patronizing expression he could. It was a look he mastered in his youth, and if Finn’s loud sigh was any indication, it had the desired effect. 

Just great indeed.

* * *

“Is he worth it?” Finn asked, fingers closing over Poe’s wrist. He gave a small tug that had Poe drawing in close. 

Poe huffed out a sound, shaking his head with a rueful look, “Probably not.” 

“Okay, then why are we doing this?” Anxiety churned in Finn’s gut, leaving him feeling close to queasy.

“It’s the right thing.” Poe offered up which had Finn turning an unimpressed look toward him. But still, it made Finn think of Leia, what she wanted the resistance to stand for-- it just took one look at Poe’s face: smiling with a broad grin, his hand moving to interlock his fingers with Finn’s.“He could help us end this war.” And Finn did believe, in the resistance, _in them_. Poe lifted up their joined hands. Finn’s heart skipped a beat and he wondered belatedly if that’s how victory would feel. 

And feeling like _that_ , he couldn’t imagine wanting to argue.

* * *

Hux didn’t remember drifting off, but he woke to the patter of water against the ship’s hull. _Rain_. Always _rain_. He propped himself up, pleased that the wound in his leg had already settled to a numb ache. Hux rubbed the heel of his hand against his eyes-- swollen and heavy. He sat up, legs swinging over the edge. 

He glanced around the interior of the ship-- the girl nowhere in sight. He wondered if she spent every waking hour obsessing over Ren as well. Hux hoped not, it’d be all the more wonderful if Ren’s delusions remained unreciprocated. Even though she was gone, the same couldn’t be said for Poe and Finn who wandered in unceremoniously. 

Finn shifted his weight on his feet, giving Poe a look. Unsurprisingly, it was Poe who broke the silence: “Are you going to continue helping the resistance?” Poe asked. Hux had quite enjoyed the steady hum of the old rust-bucket of a ship-- even stationary the thing was never silent-- But, now here both Finn and Poe were, interrupting his quiet and standing shoulder-to-shoulder. Much closer together than was strictly professional actually. Hux made a mental note to keep that detail in mind. 

“If rendering such aid leads to Ren losing, I’ll consider it a personal victory,” Hux assured the two of them. They exchanged a look betwixt themselves. Something concerned, quiet and hidden. Their worry was well warranted, Hux hadn’t made up his mind about the whole thing yet. 

_If_ the resistance was truly the only option left open for Hux, he’d have to make the best of it. He feared he was already starting to look the part-- Hux hadn’t seen a mirror but he could just picture what a sight he was: uniform rumpled, hole in his jodhpurs, hair having lost its coif hours earlier, eyes red-rimmed. The picture of _disorder_. It set his teeth on edge. 

Finn looked to Poe and at the other man’s nod turned his attention back to Hux: “We’re on one of Endor’s moons.” 

Hux clucked his tongue, “Ah,” He got to his feet, flinching against the momentary pain that spiked up his left leg. “I would’ve thought taking me directly to the Resistance to be the more prudent choice.” The bacta had already done quite a good job, Hux noted, able to put weight on his wounded leg. He straightened up, settling into parade rest-- the familiar position afforded him a small comfort. 

“We got a mission that’s bigger than you, pal,” Poe pointed out. There was some rapid beeping from the front of the ship, which had him rushing off, shouting over his shoulder: “Can you walk?” 

Huz’s brows furrowed down low over his eyes, “Surely you don’t mean--” 

“Leaving you on the ship alone?” Poe’s voice cut him off, “Not a chance!” The beeping shut off abruptly, the entire ship starting to rock dangerously to one side before it evened back out. 

“No, nope,” Finn agreed with the shake of his head, looking at Hux closely, “Bad choice.”

Poe poked his head out of the doorway, “We gotta go.” He pointed a finger toward Hux, “Get changed.” 

And just like that Finn heaved a pile of clothing at him. Hux’s face slackened with surprise, glancing down at the ugly, rough garments cradled in his arms. 

“You can’t go like that,” Poe pointed out.

Finn nodded, gesturing toward Hux’s person, “Clothes like those? First Order poster boy.”

Hux’s brows dropped low, distaste pulling at the edge of his mouth. He spared another look at the clothes, imagining what ill-fitting nightmare sat in his arms.

* * *

The pants were at least four inches too short-- luckily that was hidden once they were tucked into his boots-- but still, the shirt hung too loose on his frame and, most unfortunately, the wind cut straight through the thin fabric. He frowned as thick, salty drops battered against his skin. The want for his gaberwool greatcoat a tangible ache in his gut. 

Hux glanced around the moon, Kef Bir if he wasn’t mistaken, taking a moment to bask in where he stood: the ruins of Tarkin and Lemelisk’s legacy. His own failings came rushing back and left him with only one bitter thought: _well, at least I took out five planets_\-- no thanks to Kylo Ren, whose _daddy issues_ were the reason they lost. 

“Hey, hold up,” One of Finn’s arms shot out in front of Hux’s chest, pushing him backward. Hux allowed himself to be herded back toward the wreckage. Ah, so this was to be a stealth mission then. “We don’t want to walk into an ambush, there could be troopers up ahead.” Hux doubted it-- if it was Ren they feared, he much preferred to travel alone; barring his disgusting cronies of course. 

“Oh,” Finn continued “Here, take this,” and just like that he was pushing a blaster into Hux’s hands. Well, at least they didn’t intend to leave him defenseless. With any luck, Ren would show up and Hux would be able to shoot him. A nice fantasy, although implausible. He’d be more than willing to settle for the scavenger girl doing his dirty work. She had long since run ahead-- _perhaps trying to find Ren with her mind_. It made Hux want to laugh. 

The ocean’s barrage grew stronger, waves licking up over the wreckage--the durasteel slickened, crusted salt sloughing back into the waves. “Watch out!” Poe called, pointing toward a _very_ large wave cresting toward them. Finn’s hand fisted into Hux’s shirt, propelling him backward. Unfortunately, Hux’s bad leg gave out, sending them both tipping over.

“Finn!” Poe called, skidding to Finn’s side, dropping to his knees, “You okay?” 

“Me? Oh yeah,” Finn said, waving off Poe’s concern with a croak, “Just fine.”  
Hux just sat there on the ground for a moment: borrowed pants soaked through, hair hanging limp across his forehead, trying to catch his breath. So far, their mission was off to a truly spectacular start.

* * *

The mission on Endor was a catastrophe. Their jedi scavenger had run off to karking wherever in search of _Ren_. She hadn’t come back either, which was the true crux of the issue. Hux hoped they’d drown together. 

At least they still had the ship, otherwise he would be stranded here (with _Ren_ )-- it made a very cold comfort indeed. Lucky too when the water-logged relic was finally back up in the sky. 

Poe and Finn were gathered in close together, whispers caught low on their breath. Close enough they may as well have been touching, bodies angled toward each other. They had such an easy banter, uncommonly close with fond eyes. The sort of relationship that was easily exploitable, a clear weakness. 

Hux couldn’t help himself, wanting to poke the proverbial rancor as it were. “I must admit I'm not surprised the resistance is so flippant with rules on fraternization,” Hux noted.

“What do you mean?” Finn asked, “Us?” he gestured from himself toward Poe, with Hux’s pointed look he clarified: “No, we aren’t--”

“Together, no,” Poe finished. They stared at each other as though in search of validation that _it was the truth_. Hux’s eyebrows furrowed, lip pulling up with distaste: what a sorry pair they were. 

“Yeah, we’re not,” Finn doubled-down on their previous protests, only to softly ask Poe: “Are we?” 

“We haven’t talked about it.”

“Yeah, no--” Finn shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest, “Wait, what do you mean we haven’t talked about it? Is there something we need to talk about?” 

“Later,” Poe said, lowering his voice, “We’ll talk later.”

“If you say so,” Hux said pointedly cutting into their conversation. From the cockpit a bright red light started to flash. He raised his eyebrows at them expectantly, not surprised when Poe scrambled to go look.

Poe gathered in close to Finn again, pulling him away from Hux. Hux had the distinct impression he was trying to have a private conversation, “I have some bad news and good news.”

“Bad news first.”

“We’re low on fuel.”

“Do I even want to know what the good news is?”

“I’m sure there’s a planet nearby.” 

“ _Really?_ That’s your good news?” 

“Hey, work with me here.”

“Okay, fine. That’s great news,” Finn said, “We’ll just stop wherever then.” 

Hux couldn’t bare the incompetence any longer, speaking up: “What sector are we in?”

Finn shot him a look, “We’re barely off the planet!”

“Takodana is approximately 1800 parsecs from Endor,” Hux continued, “Maz Kanata is sympathetic to the resistance and, as such, I imagine she’d be amiable to rendering her aid.”

“No, won’t work,” Poe shook his head, “She’s off-world with the rest of the rebels.”

“Ah,” Takodana was off the table then-- the First Order was likely already aware of his betrayal, even if they weren’t, the Millennium Falcon was hardly a subtle ship. Takodana’s smugglers would no doubt sell them out as soon as they were given the chance. Hux paused, thinking of the hyperspace routes they were most near. Finally he said: “Cerea is another possibility.” 

Poe heaved out a sigh, “You want us to go to some backward farming planet?” 

“Precisely,” Hux replied, “We’re unlikely to be spotted by the Order and it’s less than 1,500 parsecs away.” 

“Wait, hold up,” Finn peered at him closely: “Do you have the whole galactic star chart memorized?” 

“Only relevant points of interest.” 

“Oh, okay, sure, that explains it then.” 

“Alright, Cerea it is.”

* * *

Ren felt the moment his mother died. His hands numb, skin clammy under the weight of his quilted tunic. Even the burning that had seared its way through him felt like nothing. He stared at the singed hole in his shirt, at the healed flesh on his abdomen and still felt _nothing_. 

He stared out into the waves, watching them beat against the sides of the wreckage. There was a dim thought at the back of his mind: Rey had taken his ship-- no doubt she would be headed to rendez-vous with the rest of the resistance-- she would be meeting up with the Falcon, he was sure of it. But he couldn’t feel her anymore, all he sensed was the gaping hole left by Leia. 

“I need transport off-world,” Ren barked into his comlink. 

“Of course, Supreme Leader, a shuttle will be sent to you at once.”

“I want the location of the Millennium Falcon,” Ren continued, “It can’t have gotten far.” 

“It shall be done,” Pryde paused for a moment, crinkle of static in the background: “We have also located the resistance’s mole.” 

“Who?”

“General Hux, sir.”


	2. Chapter 2

Ren took a deep breath, fingers digging into his comlink, “He’s dead?”

Pryde’s voice on the other end did little to quench his growing fury, “Unfortunately not, sir.”

“What?” 

“He fled the ship with a contingent of the resistan--” 

Ren stared down at the tiny pieces of broken plastic and metal in his hand. _That rat_.

* * *

The Falcon was forced to land in one of Cerea’s Outsider Citadel’s. Finn looked around the landing pad-- at the grim, dark buildings. He stifled a cough, no doubt from the thick smell of smog that lingered. Hux eyed their surroundings warily, pleased when a mechanic ambled up toward them. Surprisingly, she was human. Although, perhaps Hux shouldn’t have been surprised: considering the Cerean’s isolationism, why would they have their own people running these slums? 

“Armitage Maratel,” Hux introduced, falsehood slipping easily from his tongue. He hoped they looked docile enough-- he had found gel in one of the Falcon’s freshers and had styled his hair back into something resembling decent. 

“Finn,” At the human’s expectant look Finn further clarified, “er, Dameron. Finn Dameron.” 

“Dalo Pescer,” The woman said, taking a long moment to look over their ship: “What brings you to Cerea?” Her eyes were dark, beady, face leathery and lined, white hair tied into a loose knot at the nape of her neck. 

With impeccable timing, Poe took that moment to come sauntering down the ramp. “Poe Dameron,” Poe announced, “What can you do for my ship?” Before he even finished the question the woman gave them a _look_ , eyebrows raising up toward her hairline as she looked from Finn to Poe. “What’s with that look?” Poe asked. 

Hux couldn’t resist the bait, snidely pointing out: “No doubt she’s surprised about your shared last name.”

“Oh, yeah, _that_ ,” Finn coughed into his hand, “Boyfriends.”

Poe, perhaps seeing how that really wasn’t a suitable answer for the issue at hand, clarified: “Husbands.” 

“Soon-to-be,” Finn agreed quickly with a nod, “I’m just really over eager. Planning ahead.” 

The woman nodded her assent slowly, “Alright...” her words drawled, crease forming between her furrowed brows. 

“We need fuel,” Hux interjected, “We’re on our way to Sullust,” he took a step forward, forcing his mouth into an expression that could almost pass as friendly.

“Well, you won’t get very far with _that_ ,” She pointed toward where a drop of thick, clear liquid was sliding down the side of the ship. And Hux had no idea what the aforementioned _‘that’_ was. As such, he found himself inclined to believe her. 

“Great, just fix the ship,” Poe said, rubbing his palms together “And refuel her.” 

“Won’t be cheap.” 

Poe heaved out a sigh: “Fine.”

* * *

The streets of the Citadel were... _unwelcoming_ , to say the least. The local population kept their presence scarce on the streets, but many eyes peered out at them from the numerous windows lining tall buildings. Hux huffed out a sigh, _their arrival would not go unnoticed_. 

“So, _Armitage_ ,” Finn said, “What kinda name is _that_ anyway?”

“Mine,” Hux replied, voice kept even, “Not all of us are so fortunate as to choose our own names, _Finn_.” 

“Wait, that’s your real name?” Finn’s mouth dropped with surprise, blinking stupidly for a moment. “Forget I said anything. No complaints from me.” Finn stumbled, barely catching himself, he turned a glare onto his tin can assailant. It just lazily continued rolling away. 

The Citadel seemed to be a glorified garbage heap, polluted and stinking. “I thought you called this a ‘farming planet’,” Finn gathered in close to Poe’s side, “Doesn’t look very farm-y to me.” There was no sprawling acreage, no grand trees nor vivid plant live. In fact, there wasn’t a single plant around _anywhere_. 

“It is,” Poe insisted before explaining: “But they’re isolationist.”

“So we can expect to be held here, _in the slum_ , for the remainder of our visit,” Hux said, gesturing pointedly to the faces pressed up against the glass windows, “With the other outsiders.” 

The first marginally appealing sign of life came from an old neon sign. It appeared to be a bar, which they decided was good enough. 

The catina was near empty, one bartender stood polishing a hideously clouded glass behind the old, rusted counter. Next to him on the countertop sat one ugly plant. It’s yellow stems were nearly bare, leaves curled and dusky. 

“Look,” Finn gestured to the sad little plant, “I found the farming part,” as though to spite them, the wilted husk dropped another leaf. 

Poe sauntered up to the counter, hands pressing on the curling red plastic top. “What’s the strongest thing you have?” 

“Methyl alcohol.”

Hux scoffed out a breath, “That’d just as likely kill you as get you drunk.”

“It’s good enough for the Chadra-Fan.” 

“Uh,” Finn squinted at the drink menu, not able to read the exact characters, “What about a fuzzy tauntaun? That’s a classic drink,” his vice dropped low, looking to Poe, “Isn’t it?” 

“Sure,” Poe agreed, looking toward their bartender. 

“I can make it.”

* * *

“Poe, Poe,” Finn said, pawing at the other man’s arm, voice lowering to a hush, “My lips are going numb.”

Poe’s eyebrows curled in, “What?” 

Finn thrust the dingy glass toward him, “I think I might be having an allergic reaction-- try it.” 

“Alright,” And with that Poe swiped up the glass and took a large sip. Hux stared at them in dumbfounded shock: _what if the kriffing thing was poisoned?_ Poe’s lips puckered up, tongue swiping out momentarily, “No, it’s happening to me too.” 

“So, it’s just the drink?” 

“Yeah, buddy, just the drink,” Poe assured him, pushing the drink back toward him. His tongue poked out between his lips again, “Kind of interesting actually.” 

Hux glanced out the window, through the dust and grime: outside, the very few locals scattered like a herd of spooked nerf. He frowned, tipping his head to try and get a better look. 

Poe, perhaps noticing Hux’s gaze, shot up from his seat, hand closing on Finn’s arm. “We have to go.” 

“Wait, why?” Finn twisted to look over his shoulder. Before he could see anything Poe pulled him up to his feet. 

“Something’s wrong,” Poe lunged to the doorway before he stumbled backward. He spun toward them, pointing at the bartender, “You! Is there another way out of here?” 

“Out back,” He gestured toward a door at the back of the room, “Through the pantry.” Hux didn’t need to be told twice, rushing toward the back. Finn and Poe followed right behind him.

“Wait! What’re we running from?”

Poe turned a grim look toward his friend, “Kylo Ren.” The secret exit from the pantry had been wedged shut, a crate pushed in front. Hux only realized when his knee slammed into it. “We need to move this outta--” Before Poe could finish they heard the heavy footsteps. He shushed them, lowering his hands.

Hux felt his breath catching in his throat, could feel the rapid beat of his heart in his chest. He backed up, shoulder bumping against Finn’s, back of his knees touching the crate.

“Off-worlders, you’ve seen them,” Ren’s voice unmistakable in that dreadful mask. “The girl,” and Hux heard the bar tender’s confused response. Then the thump of a body hitting the floor. 

A shaky exhale slipped from Hux’s mouth-- Finn’s hand knotted up on the shoulder of his borrowed shirt, clutching the fabric between his fingers. Hux’s eyes flicked to the side, to where Poe had his blaster aimed at the door. 

The door flew open and Hux’s feet slid out from underneath him. He felt Finn’s hand being ripped from his shirt. Hux let out a startled yelp, shoulder-blades connecting with the ground as he was drug bodily from the pantry. His fingers grappled for purchase, indignant cry catching in his mouth. 

There Ren stood, hand extended with his fingers curling inward, expression hidden behind the hideous, cracked helmet. Hux bared his teeth, struggling to prop himself up on his elbows. 

“General Hux,” Spoken from behind the crackling static of the mask, it sounded like more of an insult than usual. Hux choked back the urge to try and appease Ren-- he settled for snarling, teeth bloodied and lip split open. “Rabid cur, you know that’s what Snoke thought of you.” 

“I’m well aware, _Ren_ , but seeing as you killed him, his opinion doesn’t carry much weight anymore now does it?” Hux tried to lunge up from his position at the Knight’s feet only to be slammed back to the ground. It rattled his lungs, breath wheezing out painfully. 

A blaster bolt clipped Ren’s shoulder, forcing him to the side. His grip on Hux loosened. Hux glanced back-- saw Poe pinned in place, the muscles in his neck twitching with exertion, blaster clutched in unmoving hands. Hux’s foot kicked out, heel connecting with the side of Ren’s knee. 

Ren buckled down to the side before he caught himself. “Allying yourself with another traitor, Hux?” he said, voice cracking through the modulator. Hand twisting into a fist, Hux watched as Finn was thrown up onto one of the nearby walls. He struggled for purchase, hands clawing at his neck. 

“Finn!” Poe’s shout rang in Hux’s ears. 

“Amazing what sort of loyalty you inspire, _Supreme Leader_ ,” Hux goaded, drawing Ren’s attention back toward himself, “How many more troops will defect under your leadership?” He smiled an ugly little smile, “You can’t even persuade one weak scavenger to your side, how do you expect to rule a--” Hux’s words cut off into a violent wheeze, grabbing his throat. Even so, he thought as loudly as he could: _GALAXY!_ Hoping that Ren could hear. 

Through the numb ringing in his ears, he heard the sound of Finn landing on the ground. Hux gasped uselessly, chest heaving for breath. Dark spots danced across his vision, he blinked rapidly. Another flash of light and Ren fell to his knees, clutching his shoulder. 

Hux sucked in air greedily, too fast as a hacking cough rattled his lungs. “C’mon,” He felt a fingers clawing at his collar, hauling him up to his feet. A sweaty hand grabbed his and pulled him from the room. He thought he saw Ren’s hand lift up again, but it was knocked aside by some unseen force. Whatever it was strong enough to send Ren skidding across the ground. It gave them just enough time to sprint free. 

Finn’s voice came out scratchy, breathless, “Did you see that?! Did I do that?” 

“Yeah, buddy, I saw,” Poe encouraged, hand resting on the small of Finn’s back, “We aren’t safe yet-- we gotta get out of here.” They weaved through the city, dunking into a small alcove. They took a moment to catch their breath, adrenaline spiked through Hux’s system-- reminded him of his boyhood, at the academy and afterward. 

A heavy ache settled in Hux’s chest, back and neck tender and likely to bruise. His hands uncomfortably warm and clammy, only just noticing that Finn’s hand still grasped his. “We need to get to the ship, lest it is impounded once more,” Hux spoke up once he finally had enough air. 

They took off in the direction of the landing pad. Once they arrived, Poe tossed a credit chit to Dalo with a hasty, “We need to go-- that should be enough.” She looked like she wanted to stop them, mouth flopping open before she thought better of it. 

“Finn, I’m going to need you on that gun!” Poe called, sliding into the pilot’s seat, “I don’t think they’re gonna make it easy for us to leave.” That turned out to be an understatement. 

As soon as they crested Cerea’s skies, tie fighters were on them. Hux groaned, ship lurching roughly with Poe’s efforts to lose them. He looked out the viewport, counting at least five of them. Poe weaved down low, back toward one of the Citadels, in a poor effort to shake them. Hux counted again, _still five_. “What are you waiting for?” Hux called to Finn, “Fire!”

“What do you think I’m trying to do?!” Finn shouted back. One of his shots hit true, fighter exploding-- leaving a mess of fiery streaks across the sky. 

Poe’s voice pulled his attention next: “Can you co-pilot?”

“What?” Hux’s nose wrinkled up with distaste.

“I’m going to take that as a yes,” Poe grabbed Hux’s sleeve, nearly shoving him into the empty seat. 

“It most certainly wasn’t.”

“Don’t worry, it’ll be fine-- our lives just depend on it.” 

From the gunner bay Finn called: “Yeah, absolutely no pressure!”

* * *

“I was saving this for a special occasion,” Poe announced, bottle of Soulean brandy being placed on the table expectantly. “But, I figure this is as good a time as any.” 

Considering Hux had his first successful venture piloting a ship-- something he never thought he’d have the misfortune of doing-- and he had escaped certain death at Ren’s hands, he felt inclined to agree. 

Finn reached for the bottle, perhaps intending to take a swig from the thing. “Get me a glass at least,” Hux commanded, pleasantly surprised when Poe placed one down next to him. Poe popped the cork off the decanter, pouring Hux a full glass. 

Finn reached forward, smiling as he swiped the decanter from Poe’s hands, taking a large sip directly from the neck. He choked on a cough, swallowing past the harsh burn of the alcohol. His lips puckered up, eyes squeezed closed. 

Hux nursed his glass between his fingers, taking a small sip. It was strong. Not perhaps the best he’d ever had, some of the fruity notes were a bit _off_ , but tasted like it could incapacitate a grown man; which made it quite appealing. 

Poe tossed back his own hearty mouthful, unlike his companion the alcohol didn’t seem to phase him-- doing absolutely nothing to dim the twinkle in his eyes. 

“You know, Hugs,” Poe said, sliding in to sit next to Finn, thighs pressed up close together. “You’re not so bad.”

“You’re wrong,” Hux replied, gently tipping the glass to watch the amber liquid swirl, “I’m positively awful.” A sly smile stretched out across his mouth and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so... _so light_. 

“No, that’s true,” Finn agreed, patting Poe’s hand, “He _is_ awful. The worst, actually.” 

“Thank you,” Hux said, saluting his glass toward Finn before he took a larger drink, “At least _someone_ acknowledges my accomplishments.” 

“Hey, Hugs, you any good at Dejarik?” Poe asked, gesturing vaguely in the vicinity of the holochess table. 

Hux pursed his lips against the rim of his glass, “Quite.” Like most other games of strategy, he’d spent much of his youth mastering them. In fact, it’d been at least a few years since he’d lost a game-- due in no small part to his limited free time not allowing much recreation. Losing became difficult, after all, if you rarely had the opportunity to play. 

“Great!” Finn exclaimed, leaning half over the table, “Because there’s this Wookie who cheats and we need to beat him.”

* * *

For some unknown karking reason the temperature in the Falcon had dipped low. Faulty wiring in a faulty ship. Hux felt a momentary thankfulness for the alcohol that still burned warmly in his gut. Poor substitute for gaberwool and stims, but he’d take what he could get. 

Finn shrugged into a jacket, well worn around the elbows, beige leather creased and familiar. Actually, Hux was quite sure he’d seen it before. He thought back, finally turning to Poe when he decided: “Isn’t that your jacket?”

Poe’s mouth dropped into a little ’o’ with surprise, “You remember my jacket?”

“You remember his jacket!?” Finn followed right up, arms only halfway in the aforementioned jacket. Finn had paused all effort to get it on, instead joining his companion to stare at Hux with dumbfounded shock. 

“I saw it only briefly before Ren’s interrogation,” Hux explained, “Still, I have a good memory-- _why are you both still looking so surprised?_ ” He cut off with an exasperated sigh. 

“I dunno,” Poe finally said, edges of his mouth curling up into a roguish smile, “Just wouldn’t expect a First Order General to remember mundane details about his enemies.”

“It’s not mundane,” Hux defended, “You both are crucial to the resistance; as such, knowing what you look like, what you wear, _what sort of bars you frequent_ , can all become valuable intel--” Hux heaved out another sigh, eyebrows drawing down low: “You’re still doing it.” He gestured in the vicinity of their shocked faces.

“I never took you for much of an intel guy,” Poe admitted, “That Starkiller speech, _not very subtle_.” Hux felt a momentarily burning on the tips of his ears, his mouth twisting into a frown. 

Finn’s face slackened with understanding. _Finally_. “So what? You’d poison his drink at his favorite bar?” He gestured with his thumb toward Poe. 

“Or blow up the entire planet, if that’s what was required,” Hux admitted, entirely unrepentant.

* * *

“Hugs,” Poe said when they had reached their second bottle of raava-- having discovered a hidden stash of bottles in one of the ship’s crawlspaces-- “What do you want, when we reach the resistance?” 

“No court martial, no sham trial,” Hux said, “I will not be made an example of in front of the entire galaxy.” He ran his fingertip along the rim of his glass, collecting a stray drop of the tart liquid. “In exchange, everything I know is yours.” He stared at the little dark bead before flicking it away.

Hux decided to continue, liquor having loosened his tongue:“If you’re looking to formally indoctrinate me into your ranks, I always fancied myself a Grand Marshal,” After all, the responsibilities had been his even though the title had been withheld from him. Then of course there was the humiliation of being _babysat_ by Pryde. An effective demotion. How ironic his title stayed _General_ through all of that. 

“The resistance doesn’t have one of those yet,” Poe offered up, “You can be that.” 

Hux rolled his eyes, scoffing even as a bitter smile pulled on the corners of his mouth, “I appreciate your consideration.”

“Hey,” Finn’s hand reached across the table, catching on his shirtsleeve, “Leaving-- it gets easier. Once you’re out.” _If_ Hux were feeling particularly mean, he would point out their situations were hardly the same: Finn had only been a cog in the machine, _his_ grand machine. Then again, he reflected, look at him now. Undoubtedly that simple cog mattered much more than he had originally given him credit for. 

But, Hux wasn’t feeling mean at all. Inside him there was only a shifting emptiness: It’d been with him since he saw Snoke’s head squished on the floor of his throne room. Since he’d failed to put a blaster bolt through Kylo Ren right then and there. 

So, as it were, Hux appreciated Finn’s sentiment. He felt perfectly content to let warm fingers linger on his wrist. Then he noticed how Poe’s eyes caught the movement, shoulder momentarily tensing from where his arm was slung around Finn’s back. 

Hux leaned forward, eyes catching dark and low, “I don’t quite know what to make of the two of you,” He settled back in his chair looking from Poe to Finn. Hux sipped his drink, savoring the flavor of the zsajhira berries tingling his tongue. “Once you figure it out, do let me know. I have a proposition.” 

“Wait, figure what out?” Finn lurched back, Poe’s arm tightening around his shoulder. Finn jerked his head to the side to look at Poe, “What’s there to figure out?” 

Poe, meanwhile, had the audacity to look cowed. “Hugs, are you _propositioning_ us?”

Hux’s face wrinkled up, “That’s what I said, wasn’t it?”

“Wait, so like--” Poe pointed a finger at himself, to Finn, and then to Hux. 

Hux sighed, rolling his eyes up to stare at the ceiling of the Falcon. Finn still seemed wholly in the dark: “Wait, what? What’re you trying to say?” Hux imagined crawling into the purpled liquid of his drink and just drowning. 

Seeing as that wasn’t an option, Hux settled for standing up, “Do think on it.” And with that, he left them to go and try to sober up. He longed for stims, even a caf would do. Alas, this particular ship seemed to be home to alcohol and little else. 

There was a thickness to the air too, the inevitability of the battle they all knew was coming.

* * *

“What do mean we’re going to land on the ship?!” Hux raised his voice over the howling of the wind, hair wiped back off his forehead. He could stare through the opened door at the Steadfast's monstrous silhouette. To land on a star destroyer was unheard of, would be crazy--

“It’ll be fine--” Finn assured him, grabbing the reins of some ugly creature Hux had never bothered to learn the name of. Poe’s voice over the comlink seemed to agree that it absolutely _wouldn’t be fine_ , but Finn continued to press: “We’ll be great. It’ll work. It’ll be fine.” 

It did work, sort of.

However, once they had actually landed, the wind so rough it nearly sent them tumbling over, Hux _really_ wanted to argue with Finn’s interpretation of _fine_. It was a sloppy mission, foolhardy and hapless. Something knocked Finn off of whatever animal he had been riding. Finn landed hard on his side before he rolled over roughly, blaster bolts searing down around him. 

“Come here,” Hux shouted toward him, slipping behind an alcove for cover. Hux could see the trooper’s blaster pointed in Finn’s direction-- too far to really aim well-- _and when did they ever have exceptional aim anyway_ , Hux scoffed to himself. Hux held out his hand, gesturing pointedly, “What are you waiting for?! I’ll cover you.” Finn scooted to the side, staying low to the ground for a few moments. Every second the trooper got closer. Hux’s voice became desperate: “Now!” 

Finn bolted up to his feet, Hux turning to shoot at the tropper. Finn skidded in next to him, barely stopping himself in time before he almost landed on Hux. Hux’s bad leg nearly gave out, he and Finn half-holding onto each other so they didn’t end up in a heap on the ground. 

“Good shooting,” Finn finally said, coughing into his hand as he pulled away, “Thanks for that. Your shooting.”

“Yes, well,” Hux’s expression stayed neutral, “I did say I would help.” And that’s all he said, as though that was a perfectly normal explanation for why he went out of his way to save Finn’s life. Again.

Hux wanted to take back his words from before-- He did care if they won, because their victory was his victory. Hux could just about see the path in front of him: _finally, he’d get to see Kylo Ren destroyed_. But there wasn’t any time to say anything else at all.

As they moved, Hux hoped for one thing: Ren and the scavenger tearing each other apart with their mystic powers. Then they’d just be meaningless specks of dust under his boot. Exactly where they and their force mumbo-jumbo belonged.

* * *

Their victory was hard-fought and ugly. 

Even after Rey had left to see the rest of the resistance, Poe didn't want to move away from Finn. Finn’s arms were tight around his neck. Poe couldn’t resist the urge to pull him close, to nestle his nose against the soft skin behind his ear. He breathed in a scent that was purely Finn. Bright and warm like how Poe imagined a millaflower would smell. 

Finn’s fingers were tight on the back of his flight suit, holding onto Poe like his life depended on it. Poe drew his head back and really looked at Finn: saw the warmth in his dark eyes, his crooked smile, and just everything about him was _perfect_ \-- dear to Poe in a way he could’ve never imagined a year ago. 

Poe raised a hand, stroking his fingertips along Finn’s cheek down to cradle his jaw. His thumb caught on his lower lip, gentle and sure. And everything he felt, Poe knew he couldn’t describe-- The way his chest got all knotted up and ached. The way Finn took all the breath from his lungs and gave it back tenfold. 

So Poe didn’t try to say any of it; He just pulled Finn in towards him and kissed him. 

Finn let out a noise-- something startled-- before his hands tightened on Poe. He’d never let him go. Poe drew his mouth back to grin broadly. It didn’t matter if it was short or chaste, it was perfect. _They were perfect_. 

“Poe,” Finn mumbled, voice caught low. Poe could feel his breath against his mouth, they were still so close, “I love you, man.” Poe’s hand gripped the back of Finn’s head, pulling him close so their foreheads pressed against each other. 

Poe breathed out a soft exhale, “I love you too.” Finn laughed, so soft and warm and giddy. And it was hard for Poe to force himself to back up to a distance that was more _appropriate_. But he couldn’t stop grinning ear-to-ear. 

Poe looked at the resistance surrounding the two of them, and only now was he able to hear their jubilant cheers, could feel the press of all their bodies around them. 

And of course that’s when he saw Hux: shell-shocked with his red hair disheveled all to hell. Poe had to really laugh at that. Could just imagine what he said before they had left, his snivelly little: _I helped design these ships, their weapons, do you really think I wouldn’t know how to break them_? The fact that he'd actually went with Finn had been surprising too. Had helped save Finn’s life. Again. 

“Hugs!” Poe called. 

Hux gave him a snotty look, mouth drawing tight like he’d just sucked a particularly sour lime. “What do you want?” He acted like it was some great inconvenience but walked toward them all the same. 

Poe slung an arm around him, pulling him into an awkward half-hug. Hux let out a sound that landed somewhere between a squawk and a yelp. “Thanks,” Poe said, letting Hux lurch backward. 

“Well, in any case, I’m pleased that you won,” Hux admitted, tips of his ears flushed red. 

Finn leaned toward Hux with his eyebrows raised up: “Really? Thought you didn’t care?”

“I didn’t,” Hux said, before realizing his mistake and correcting, “Of course I don’t.” 

“ _We_ won, Hugs,” Poe insisted, patting a hand against Hux’s cheek. “You’re a regular old resistance fighter now.” 

“What an accomplishment,” Hux said as he rolled his eyes with exasperation Poe knew was fake: “The standout of my military career--”

Before Hux could finish Finn was lunging toward him, wrapping him up into a hug. There was something desperate to the way Finn spoke: “ _Thank you_.” 

And Hux was stiff and awkward, too formal as he gave a half-hearted pat to Finn’s back-- like he had absolutely no idea what to do with himself. But he stayed all the same.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!   
> I hope some others enjoyed the pre-OT3 no one asked for :)


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